One will or two — the last great Christological controversy
“Father, if You are willing, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done.”Luke 22:42 — Gethsemane, the verse the whole controversy turned on
Monothelitism (from monos, one, and thelēma, will) is the seventh-century teaching that Christ, though acknowledged in two natures, possesses only one will. It was born less as a heresy than as a peace treaty: after Chalcedon (451) split the empire from the churches that could not accept “two natures,” the emperors sought a formula both sides might sign. First came monoenergism — one divine-human energy or operation in Christ — and when that failed, one will. If Christ’s two natures could at least be said to will as one, perhaps the empire could too.
The church finally judged the compromise a wound to the gospel itself, and the reason is Gethsemane. There Christ prays, “not My will, but Yours, be done” — two willings, meeting in one obedient person. The champions of the two-wills answer (dyothelitism), above all Maximus the Confessor, argued that the will belongs to the nature, not the person: a complete human nature must include a human will, or Christ is not fully man. And what he has not assumed, he has not healed — Gregory of Nazianzus’s old axiom — so if Christ has no human will, then the human will, the very seat of our rebellion, is the one thing left unredeemed. Maximus added the careful distinction that Christ’s human will is a natural will, not a gnomic (wavering, deliberating) one: he wills humanly, but never in opposition to God.
The Sixth Ecumenical Council (Constantinople III, 680–681) therefore confessed in Christ “two natural wills and two natural operations, without division, without change, without partition, without confusion” — his human will “following, and not resisting or opposing, his divine and almighty will.” The definition is received by Orthodoxy, Rome, and the Reformation alike; it is one of the places where all three streams of the comparison table still stand on common ground.
The one-will formula rose in an empire fighting for its life — Persia at the gates, then Islam — and fell only after it had cost a pope his life and a monk his tongue and right hand.